


All the Queen's Men

by aingeal8c



Category: due South
Genre: Episode Related, First Time, Fix-It, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-15
Updated: 2005-02-15
Packaged: 2018-11-10 05:59:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11121303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aingeal8c/pseuds/aingeal8c
Summary: An alternative version of the episode 'All the Queen's Horses'





	All the Queen's Men

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

All the Queen's Men

## All the Queen's Men

  
by Angela  


Disclaimer: I don't own Due South, any part of it.   
The episode which this story is based upon (subverts) was written by Paul Gross and therefore technically belongs to him. What he would make of this is anyone's guess. :)

Author's Notes: Thanks to Elanor for betaing this beast. This is the longest thing I've ever written (so far).

Story Notes: While this story is based on the episode 'All the Queen's Horses' it is rather different. Hence reading this won't 'spoil' the episode and watching the episode won't 'spoil' this story.

* * *

All the Queen's Men (an alternative to ATQH)  
  
Just across the border from the United States, in Canada, a train was loading up with horses and men in red suits, Mounties. It was a bright wintry day. Despite the presence of snow the sun was shining and keeping the temperature more bearable. Watching the hubbub was Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP and Detective Ray Vecchio, Chicago PD. Constable Fraser's wolf, Diefenbaker, was busy begging treats from the aforementioned Mounties.  
  
"Are you okay, Ray?" Fraser asked, noticing how startled Ray looked.  
  
"Yeah fine, Benny," Ray replied. "I didn't realise you guys rode such big horses." He was staring at them with a hint of fear in his body language.  
  
"They're only sixteen hands, Ray," Fraser said as if that meant something to Ray and that it would reassure him.  
  
"Sixteen hands what's that? Some kind of Canadian measurement?"  
  
"No, Ray, a hand equates to four inches."  
  
"So why not say sixty four inches?"   
  
"Well originally men used to measure horses' heights, which incidentally are to the withers or shoulder rather than the head of the horse, with their hand-span. This `hand' only gave a rough measurement as people's hand-spans differ. It was standardised to a unit of 4 inches by the English king Henry VIII in the 16th century."  
  
Ray smiled slightly. Fraser and his facts! Sometimes having Fraser reel them off made Inuit tales pale in comparison.  
  
"Fraser, all I need to know is I don't have to go near the horses or touch them."  
  
"No, Ray, you don't," Fraser stated.  
  
"Great." Ray rubbed his hands together. It was colder than he'd thought. Good job he was wearing a hat. "I'm just going to check out the train," he said, pointing at the vehicle in question.  
  
"The train?" Fraser asked with a hint of confusion.   
  
"Hey anything to get away from the smell." Ray smiled and walked away leaving Fraser on his own to survey the scene.  
  
"Okay, Ray," Fraser called.  
  
As Ray left, Fraser's father appeared. Not only that but his father appeared to be wearing his dress uniform rather than the usual fur hat and coat that Fraser was used to seeing him in. Noticing the intrusion of his ghostly father Fraser felt it was only right to acknowledge him, whether he was in his head or not. "Oh hi, Dad. I didn't know you were coming."  
  
"Ah it's sight to get the blood stirring," the older Fraser said as he watched the loading as each horse was led carefully up the ramp and onto the train.  
  
"You're dead Dad, you don't have blood." Fraser never understood his father, alive or dead. In fact, unlike everyone else, his father had no breath to see in the air as everyone else did due to the cold.  
  
"I have the memory of blood," Fraser Senior said in a slightly snitty voice. Just then he noticed Buck Frobisher. He pointed him out. "Hey, would you look at my old stable-mate?"  
  
"Why don't you say hello?" asked Fraser who wanted to be rid of his father's presence as soon as possible.  
  
"I wouldn't want to impose."  
  
"It's hardly an imposition, you're dead," his son reminded him. What was there for his father to lose?  
  
"Well...."  
  
"You could try."  
  
This seemed to make Fraser Senior more confident, "I could I suppose. No harm in it."  
  
"Fair enough," and Fraser walked off. He didn't, however, miss his father's last words.  
  
"If you need me son, I'll be around."  
  
"Thanks Dad," he replied, trying not to be too loud. He didn't want everyone to think he was crazy.  
  
As he was walking away from his dead father he happened to bump into Buck Frobisher who had changed direction. He had seen Fraser and had decided to talk to him. He was oblivious to the fact that his old friend and partner had been headed toward him and that he had turned his back to him. Mind you only Fraser had seen this.  
  
"Ah, Fraser good to see you. Thanks for helping me out," Frobisher smiled.  
  
The two men shook hands. Since their first meeting they had kept in touch and had cultivated a good relationship. Fraser often saw Sergeant Frobisher as an elder, someone from his father's generation who had had a good career. It was something Fraser himself aspired to.   
  
"It's a pleasure sir," Fraser said with his firm handshake.  
  
"Yes and Detective Vecchio, too. I'm grateful to both of you," Frobisher replied.   
  
"Well Ray is about somewhere." Fraser looked around but he couldn't see his best friend in the immediate vicinity. He also tilted his head trying to hear for Ray's distinctive tread and lifted his nose to the chill air to smell Ray's cologne. But none of his senses showed where Ray was at that moment.  
  
"Yes," Frobisher paused. "You know when they said I'd be helping out with this PR exercise I wasn't sure what to think."  
  
"How did you get involved sir?" Fraser asked. It had been Buck's involvement and request for help that had led himself and Ray to get involved. While Ray had had his doubts about the trip, he had come along.  
  
"They were looking for senior, that's old, experienced officers, someone who'd ridden with the musical ride. Of course I had, when I was a lot younger of course. Didn't need this then," and Buck indicated the stick he was carrying. In the past year his old wound from Geiger had flared up badly and he now needed the stick to help him get around.   
  
"That knife wound of yours will start playing up someday and then you take every chance you can to get out."   
  
To Fraser's dismay at that moment his dead father appeared at his side, having apparently decided he wouldn't show himself to Buck just yet. "Ha! There were times I had to drag him out in a snowstorm. First sign of a blizzard he'd complain we should turn back."  
  
"Dad!" Fraser admonished trying to be as quiet as possible and giving his father a dirty look.  
  
"Sorry?" Frobisher asked. His hearing wasn't what it had been.  
  
"Oh nothing." Fraser smiled a little and tried to ignore his father's apparition. He tried to keep his eyes focussed elsewhere but it was so hard when his father was wearing red.  
  
"Ah. Shall we?" Frobisher gestured toward the train. They had to get on. The train was about to set off.  
  
"Yes, I'll just find Ray and Superintendent Moffat."  
  
"Oh yes where is the Superintendent?" Frobisher cast his eyes around trying to see the elusive Superintendent. Frobisher was glad Fraser was there to deal with the eccentric superior officer. Buck never could understand the man.  
  
"The last time I saw him he was with the film crew. He seemed to be talking about Mickey Mouse."  
  
In fact Fraser could hear the Superintendent in the background. "Yes, Mickey Mouse ears. I'll have all the men wear them. Make a statement about the modern RCMP."  
  
The director was clearly not amused, "People don't want Mickey Mouse! They want hunks on horseback, new heroes. The ears are ridiculous."  
  
Fraser tuned out of the conversation to hear Buck Frobisher.  
  
"Well it got him promotion once," Buck noted.  
  
"You heard about that?" Fraser was slightly surprised. Then again Superintendent Moffat had been the one to sell the RCMP out, to Disney, of all people.  
  
"Oh yes," Frobisher said knowingly. "I'll see you onboard."  
  
"Ray!" Fraser called only to have Ray appear at his side.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Oh. There you are." Fraser tried not to seem surprised by his partner sneaking up on him. "We're leaving."  
  
"Okay," Ray said. "Where's that wolf of yours?"   
  
Fraser made a put upon sigh, "Hold on, Ray. We're leaving," Fraser shouted. "We will not return." With that a white wolf came bounding toward them.  
  
"Where've you been?" Fraser asked.  
  
Dief just whined and tried not to look guilty.  
  
"I see," Fraser said sternly. "Well no more junk food on this trip. I brought you along so you wouldn't spend the time putting on weight in Mrs Vecchio's kitchen. I know Ray's mother is very good to you but that's no excuse."  
  
Dief looked forlorn at his master's words. Was it his fault that the Mounties were so generous with their food? After all he was a wolf used to certain things like doughnuts and pizza. Here he was in the middle of nowhere and his pack leader expected him not to beg?  
  
"Ah cut him some slack, Fraser, I've got him peanuts."  
  
"Ray, I don't want Diefenbaker to put on any more weight." Fraser was firm.  
  
Ray just shrugged. "Fine but when he starts whining, don't blame me."  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
With that last exchange they all got on the train. The train ride was bumpy and the train itself was not warm. Well not where Ray, Fraser and Dief were. The Mounties, including Sergeant Frobisher, had filled the seated carriage so Fraser and Ray had been left at the end of another; the only place they could sit down. There weren't any seats but more a bench structure. A few of the carriages had them, the ones designed primarily for cargo. Plus Dief was a wolf so wasn't entitled to a proper seat. There was also no heating in this carriage either and the frigid air from outside made its way through the cracks. It had been either this or the stable carriages and Ray had made it clear he wasn't fond of the horses.  
  
Ray's teeth were chattering slightly as he spoke. "Why did I agree to come on this trip?" he asked aloud. "I mean I could have stayed back in nice, warm Chicago and played poker with the boys but no I thought I could have more fun freezing on a train in the middle of nowhere. Tell me, Benny, why did I come?"  
  
"Because I asked you to, Ray," Fraser stated.  
  
Ray smiled slightly, "Yeah I know," he replied.  
  
"Are you regretting it, Ray?" Fraser asked with clear concern in his voice.  
  
Ray shrugged. "Nah," he paused. "I mean a bunch of Mounties riding around on horseback, who wouldn't want to see that?"  
  
Fraser had that cute innocent expression when he replied, "I don't know, Ray."  
  
"Rhetorical question, Benny." Ray smiled.  
  
"Oh yes right." Fraser had a slight quirk of the lips, an almost smile.   
  
Fraser was closer to Ray than he had been to anyone in his life. The teasing conversations they shared were one aspect Fraser loved. He was glad that Ray had decided to come on the trip. Mind you Ray did seem to follow him everywhere as he followed Ray about. They were rarely apart. He took a glance at his watch and got up.   
  
"Ah it's time I had a word with the Superintendent. If you'll excuse me, Ray?"  
  
"Sure. Isn't that why Buck brought you on this trip? So you would deal with the Superintendent and he didn't have to."  
  
"While that does suggest an ulterior motive on the part of Sergeant Frobisher I would say that's probably accurate," Fraser replied tactfully. Though really he had no doubt that had been a deciding factor in Sergeant Frobisher's request. Opening the door, letting in a blast of cold air, Fraser left to find Superintendent Moffat.  
  
Fraser found the Superintendent in the front carriage away from the men. It was a similar one to the one he and Ray were occupying except this had a phone, a heater and a better seat. Ray would be envious if he found out. Fraser's superior appeared to be deep in thought but with Superintendent Moffat that could just be his normal vacant expression. He was shuffling some important looking official papers about on a makeshift desk. He didn't appear to know what they were but thought it gave a good image. How he had made Superintendent was one of the great mysteries of the RCMP though it did suggest a bright future for the inept Constable Turnbull.  
  
"Ah, Constable.......?" Superintendent Moffat was never any good with names.  
  
"Fraser, sir." Fraser tried to keep his eyes off the Mickey Mouse ears his superior was sporting. It really did give the most ridiculous image. The RCMP wasn't what it was, Fraser thought.  
  
"Yes, Constable Fraser, just the man I wanted to see." Moffat vaguely recognised the man in front of him. Hadn't this been the Constable who was doorman at an important reception?  
  
"Yes, Sir. I was just coming to ask about our itinerary." Fraser was polite and had a carefully neutral expression. He tried to ignore the ears.  
  
"Itinerary? This is no time to worry about that. We have other important matters to attend to, Fraser."  
  
"Oh?" Fraser was always interested in what the Superintendent had to say.  
  
"Yes. This trip is the perfect opportunity, Fraser. The journey itself is the perfect PR opportunity," he stated with conviction. "We want something more, Fraser."  
  
"More sir?"   
  
"Yes some pizzazz. Something that will make people sit up and notice."  
  
"Notice what sir?"  
  
"Us, Fraser. THE Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Notice how brave and talented the men are. Give them something to fear and respect." Superintendent Moffat looked particularly pleased with this idea. He was eyeing another promotion in Ottawa and this was his chance to get it.  
  
"What sort of talent were we thinking about sir?"  
  
"Oh anything, Fraser. Singing, dancing, amateur dramatics. Fear and respect, Fraser, those are our watchwords. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Fraser kept a straight face. He was used to these odd requests from Superintendent Moffat, after all the man had been his superior for a year or so. "Well get to it." and Superintendent Moffat waved Fraser away and went off to find the film crew. He had such good ideas for what they could do. That promotion was all but his.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Fraser felt a slight sense of homesickness when he made his way back to the carriage he was sharing with Ray and Diefenbaker. The cool air, the hint of snow, it reminded him very much of home in the territories during autumn when the weather was turning colder or spring when it was turning warmer. The atmosphere had that kind of feel about it, that of change. Fraser felt that the change was good. It was like winter thawing into spring. Clearing his head he went back into the carriage to inform Ray of his superior's latest request.  
  
"So what did the Superintendent say?" Ray asked as Fraser re-entered their carriage.  
  
Fraser took a breath before replying, "Well he appears to want something more. He's gone to get the film crew to record the journey and he wants to make it exciting." Fraser was puzzled as to what exactly the Superintendent wanted the men to do.  
  
As if reading his mind Ray asked the question, "What does he want? All singing all dancing Mounties?"  
  
Ray was joking but Fraser took him up on the idea. "I could try to get them to sing, Ray," he said earnestly.  
  
"You're kidding?"  
  
"No" Fraser paused. "Do you think it's a good idea?"  
  
"What sort of singing?"  
  
"I don't know, Ray."  
  
"I mean you could do a musical thing, like those nuns in The Sound of Music, except they're Mounties," Ray said, suddenly having an image in his head of Fraser leading a group of orphans across a snow covered hillside in Canada, singing all the way. Then he had another image of himself at Fraser's side singing California Dreaming. He ignored this image and listened to Fraser.  
  
"I don't know The Sound of Music, Ray."  
  
"What, they've never heard of Julie Andrews in the Yukon? It's a classic, Benny."  
  
"I'll have to check it out." Fraser had only seen around six movies in his life and most of those since he had been in Chicago. His grandmother had never approved of movies when there were perfectly good books to read. Fraser had seen a few movies with Ray, one in prison. This led him to conclude The Sound of Music must be in colour.   
  
"Yeah," Ray paused. "So singing Mounties? I've gotta see this."  
  
Together the two friends, followed by a curious wolf, went to the passenger carriage. It was a lot warmer in there and Ray took his hat off. Fraser had to admit he had a soft spot for that hat. It made Ray look...cute for want of a better word. As they entered the carriage Fraser was apprehensive. He was still unsure how he was going to get the men to sing  
  
"Ahem," Fraser cleared his throat. "Er the Superintendent, Superintendent Moffat, has requested that we show the film crew a more interesting side to the RCMP. The Superintendent wants you all to do something interesting and he will be here with the film crew shortly. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you, would you like to sing?"  
  
There was a general murmur of agreement. Of course what would they do for accompaniment? It so happened, through what Ray described as an amazing co-incidence, some members of the musical ride were trying to form a band and one had brought his guitar with him to pass time on the journey.  
  
"May I?" Fraser asked, indicating the instrument.  
  
"You know how to pay the guitar, Fraser?" Ray asked.  
  
"Well my Grandfather had a friend who was something of a folk musician," Fraser explained. "He taught me how to play the guitar and some songs when I was little."  
  
"No kidding?"  
  
"No."  
  
It seemed there were hidden depths to Fraser. Ray again was thinking about orphans, singing and snow covered mountains. He shook his head a little. Of all the fantasies people had he had one about a Mountie in the guise of Julie Andrews. Ridiculous!  
  
"Erm can I ask...." Fraser began. "Do you know the song....Ride Forever?"  
  
There was a general chorus of agreement. It was one of the songs Fraser had learnt at the academy. There had been other ones but they were...somewhat rude and Fraser had a feeling not what the Superintendent had in mind.  
  
"Alright then," and Fraser began to sing.  
  
At the chorus the rest of the carriage joined in drawing a look of surprise from Ray. "But I'm going to ride forever You can't keep horsemen in a cage Should the angels call, well it's only then I might pull the reins"  
  
Fraser passed the guitar back to its owner and motioned for Ray to join him outside. Dief had decided singing Mounties were really quite deafening, purely through lip reading of course, and also escaped the carriage. With the second chorus Buck Frobisher had to excuse himself and headed out of the carriage to the nearby john. The singing continued. But something started to go wrong during the last chorus as a hissing noise from the ventilation had an unusual effect. One by one the men dropped unconscious and the singing got weaker and weaker. "We're gonna ride.......forever You can't......... keep........ Horsemen in a cage Should......... the angels....... call It's....... only then I....... might........ pull......... in........ the........ reins." And the carriage went silent.  
  
Outside, and oblivious to what had happened, Fraser was trying to explain his concerns about their situation to Ray.  
  
"Ray, do you have your backup gun?" he asked.  
  
"No, Fraser, SOMEBODY made me leave it at the border remember? I can't believe you did that after all the trouble we had last time we were in Canada." As if to prove it Ray lifted his trouser leg as if to show it really wasn't there.  
  
"Well it is illegal for you to be carrying any sort of firearm in this country."  
  
"You didn't have to point that out to the security guy. Besides we're gonna be crossing the border."  
  
"It was my duty, Ray. I didn't want to arrest you." Fraser respected Ray too much. Well he had some very strong feelings for Ray but he wouldn't discuss them, at least not with Ray.  
  
"Yeah, yeah alright. Why did you ask anyway?"  
  
"Well Ray, I have reason to be concerned," Fraser said.  
  
Ray looked at him oddly. "What the singing? It was flatter than the sole of my shoe. Nuns beat Mounties, hands down. And what was with that song? The guy's old and blind what's wrong with the government stopping him from causing a road hazard?"  
  
"No, Ray, it's about the film crew."  
  
Ray sighed, that put upon sigh he made right before he found himself in garbage, or down a sewer or doing all manner of crazy things for the Mountie. "What about them?"  
  
"I don't believe they are in fact a film crew," Fraser stated.  
  
"Why? Do they look like Toreadors to you?" Ray shrugged. They had film cameras, sound mikes...what else did a film crew need?  
  
"Well, the Superintendent has been gone for 23 minutes which is far longer than I would expect it to take for him to liaise with the film crew." "He is a bit of a windbag, Benny."  
  
"Yes," Fraser conceded, "but there are other things."  
  
"Such as?"   
  
"Outside one of the cameramen actually tried to film with his lens cap on."  
  
"His lens cap?"   
  
"Which is hardly the way you would expect a professional to behave," Fraser pointed out.  
  
"They passed the security checks, Fraser."  
  
"They could have obtained false documentation," Fraser said. "The RCMP only needed to know the basics." He had a rueful look on his face. "I doubt they could have envisioned any sort of scenario with a film crew taking control of a train loaded with Mounties. What would they have to gain?"  
  
"Publicity, Benny," Ray explained. "Holdin' a train full of Mounties hostage will give you publicity. You can then use that publicity to spew out your political beliefs to a huge audience who, under normal circumstances, would think you're crazy."  
  
"I see." Fraser did now. In his line of work, well since his line of work had been in Chicago, he had met some people who Ray would describe as `psychopaths'. He could well believe that there were people out there who had some sort of mental instability and who might take advantage of a situation.  
  
"So what do we do?" asked Ray, ready for action. He might not have his gun but he had himself. They had...well they had their wits, their brains and their fists. It was no matter that the false film crew; the terrorists, had arms, knowledge and a complete disregard for life. He and Fraser had beaten the bad guys before with little else other than a tuning fork.  
  
"I'd like a moment to think about that," Fraser said eyeing the nearby window. Always the window, never a door.  
  
"Oh no!" Ray moved forward and blocked the window. "You're not jumpin' out the window."  
  
"No?" Fraser asked.  
  
"No," Ray stated. The last thing he wanted was to lose sight of the Mountie under the train. "We're gonna do this the old fashioned way."  
  
"Okay, Ray, sure." Fraser nodded.  
  
"Now where's Buck?" Ray asked, turning around, looking for him.  
  
"Oh, I saw him leave a moment or two ago. I believe he had to erm...well he had to go." Fraser was blushing slightly.  
  
"Where?" Ray wanted to know.  
  
"Well the erm..."  
  
Fraser's blushes and halting explanation made it clear to Ray. There were some things Benton Fraser RCMP couldn't just come out and say. "The john?"   
  
Fraser nodded and looked at the floor. He had no idea why the word embarrassed him. Perhaps if he had said restroom instead. He was glad Ray always seemed to know what he meant. It was as if Ray could read his mind.  
  
"OK, so let's go and find him."  
  
As they ran through the passenger carriage, holding handkerchiefs over their mouths, seeing all the unconscious red uniformed men, Ray asked, "What knocked `em out?"  
  
When they reached the outside and clear air Fraser explained, "Well from the smell I would imagine that it is some sort of airborne anaesthetic. Possibly quicksodamanophil which is derived from a plant in the Brazilian rainforest known as quicksodaman."  
  
"Quicksowhat?" Ray asked. "You're making that up."  
  
"Well actually, Ray, yes."  
  
Ray laughed, "I don't believe it Mister entire-library-in-my-head doesn't know something. Just how much of what you've ever told me is true, Benny? For all I know you could have been making those Inuit tales up."  
  
"I assure you this is the only lie I've perpetuated to you. I think the residue of that drug may have affected my faculties." Fraser was giggling too.  
  
Ray was still laughing, "I think it was nitrous oxide, Benny."  
  
The fact Fraser was also laughing gave it away. "I think you're right Ray. Oh well."  
  
Dief was unaffected and was wishing he was back in Chicago. Humans were so strange sometimes. Mind you, he did feel a bit light headed. Must be that strange smell in the air. No sense hanging around. He ran after his pack mates.  
  
Fraser and Ray sobered up and stopped laughing and headed to the location of Sergeant Frobisher. It was clear that a lot of the gas, quickly, seemed to make the men unconscious without the main side effect of laughing. It also proved that just putting a handkerchief over your mouth didn't necessarily protect you from those side-effects. It was nice to hear Fraser laugh though, Ray thought. It was such a rare thing.  
  
They soon reached the john. It was at the end of the carriage next to where the Mounties were. It was a simple, standard toilet, for one person. The lock said engaged on it proving someone was inside and as they hadn't seen him in the carriage it was a logical assumption that it was Buck Frobisher. After a couple of minutes of seeing Fraser just stare at the door Ray decided enough was enough.  
  
"Well go ahead, Benny. Talk," he prompted in a low voice. Fraser appeared to want to take the softly, softly approach. To be quite frank Ray was ready to shout through the door to try to get Frobisher out. But Ray decided to let Fraser talk to Buck first. Except Fraser seemed rather reluctant. "But he might be busy, Ray," Fraser hissed back. He didn't want to interrupt Sergeant Frobisher during...important...activities.  
  
"Look, we aren't going to talk to him through the sink or the actual toilet are we?"   
  
"No, Ray. That would be silly," Fraser replied with that `that's just silly Ray' tone.  
  
"Glad you agree. Now can we get on with this?" Ray asked impatiently. By the time they'd spoken to Frobisher they could be in Chicago on a train run by terrorists.  
  
"Sergeant Frobisher?" Fraser called through the door.  
  
Buck Frobisher was at the sink when he heard the familiar voice. It turned out that Fraser's worries about disturbing Sergeant Frobisher were a little unfounded. "Is that you, Fraser?" he called hoping his identification of the voice was correct.  
  
"Yes, sir. Detective Vecchio and I are here to appraise you of the current situation," Fraser replied through the door, relieved that Sergeant Frobisher did not appear to be angry.  
  
"What situation?" asked Buck. He wasn't aware anything unusual had happened while he had been otherwise occupied. The men had appeared to have been in fine voice.  
  
"We've come to inform you that the train isn't under our control."  
  
"No, I would imagine it's under the control of the driver," Buck replied. He knew that the younger Fraser was a good officer and a very talented young man but he did wonder why he was stating the obvious. Perhaps it was just nerves.  
  
"No, what Fraser means is the driver's not in control either," Ray explained, speaking up through the door. He couldn't believe he was doing this, talking to a Mountie through the door of a john, on a train probably taken over by terrorists, but someone had to explain this situation and explain it quickly.  
  
"Hostile forces?" asked Buck finally catching on.  
  
"We assume so sir but we haven't had time to make a positive determination," Fraser told him. It would be a logical assumption though, under the circumstances.  
  
"The Superintendent?"  
  
"No sign of him," replied Ray thinking that might not necessarily be bad thing under the circumstances.  
  
"The men?"  
  
"Gassed and unconscious," Fraser told him. Although the men would eventually wake up it would be some time. In effect they would be unable to be of any use.  
  
"Okay I'll be right with you," Buck said. He knew time was of the essence.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
While Fraser and Ray were waiting for Sergeant Frobisher they were unaware that Superintendent Moffat was lying unconscious in another carriage. Ray would have thought that this was a good thing. The Superintendent had gone to talk to the film crew as planned but things hadn't happened as he thought they would.  
  
Superintendent Moffat had entered the carriage and had found the film crew deep in conversation. About what Moffat didn't notice, he didn't have the space in his head to accommodate such a thought. All he was focussed on was being higher up the RCMP hierarchy than he currently was. On noticing the intruder the director had turned toward him with some slight anger.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he questioned. The presence of this RCMP officer could put the whole thing in jeopardy. Then again judging by their earlier interaction they might not have a problem.  
  
"Ah, yes. I was wondering if you could film part of the journey. The men have been told to prepare something special," Moffat had a lot of pride in his voice. He wasn't the least bit concerned. He still hadn't realised what was going on.  
  
"Like what?" the director asked, distracting Moffat. Not that he needed much distraction.  
  
"Well some singing and dancing, amateur dramatics. I'm not sure," he paused. "Whatever you want, we can do."  
  
"That's very interesting but we don't have the time." The director turned back to the piece of paper his attention had been focussed on.  
  
"Are you sure? I mean it could take only a few minutes to...ooo."  
  
The Superintendent had not noticed one of the members of the film crew approaching him from behind. By the time the butt end of gun came down, knocking him unconscious, he was still not aware. Now he lay, out for the count, on the floor, Mickey Mouse ears and all.  
  
"Well, that shut the idiot up," the director noted. "Right let's get work.  
  
And the film crew began unpacking some equipment that didn't bear any resemblance to that associated with the film business. In fact it was distinctly different. There were wires, timers and lots of plastic explosive. The term `hostile forces' was a very accurate description.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Back outside the john Ray and Fraser were still waiting. For Ray the waiting was harder to do. He knew why they had to wait. There would be no use trying to do something before they at least had Buck Frobisher with them. That didn't mean that Ray was liking the situation of waiting though. He was shuffling about. He couldn't stand just standing still at a time like this. "Listen, Fraser," he said. "You stay here and talk to Buck, I'm gonna see where the Superintendent is."  
  
"Ray, are you sure? After-all the Superintendent is my superior."  
  
"Yeah but he needs someone who can talk some into sense into him. You listen to his crazy ideas. Besides you and Buck are Mounties, you can come up with a plan to get this train back in control."  
  
Ray talked a lot of sense. It seemed Sergeant Frobisher was taking along time. Fraser would be starting to get concerned soon if Sergeant Frobisher didn't reappear and might go with Ray's suggestion that they break down the door. Still he knew that Ray was getting tired of waiting. Besides it might be useful to have another man with them. "Alright, Ray. I'll meet you here. Be careful."  
  
"Hey, I'll be fine," Ray smiled and went further down the train toward the carriage where the Superintendent should be after he said he was going to liaise with the film crew.  
  
The reason Buck Frobisher took so long was that he had been confronted with an interesting apparition. He had been thinking what old Bob Fraser would do in such a situation when all of a sudden he was face to face with that very man. The apparition looked just like his old friend and was dressed in his dress uniform. It was a sight that made Buck's eyes sore.  
  
"Hello, Buck, good to see you," the apparition had said. The apparition had been smiling at Buck.  
  
"Yes." Buck was disbelieving. "Is that you, Bob?" He couldn't believe his old friend, his dead friend as far as he knew, was standing there in front of him.  
  
"I presume so but then when you're dead, it's so hard to tell." Bob Fraser never knew whose head he was in. He had told his son that much when he had first appeared to him.  
  
"So you're dead?" Buck asked, making sure. If his friend was dead, how was he here?  
  
"Yes," Bob Fraser's tone took on a softer quality. "I know you were too busy to come to the funeral, Buck. I mean that was a tough case you were working on." Duty was the one thing that Bob Fraser understood. "But you did get the letter Benton sent you?" he asked.  
  
"Yes I did," Buck replied. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for him." He hadn't seen Benton until he had come to Chicago running from Geiger. Then the younger Fraser had proved he was as good a man as his father.  
  
"Oh well he coped," Bob said. Even in death he didn't understand his son and his feelings. He was still that brave seven year old waving his father goodbye. Buck Frobisher was still bothered by this apparition. "How do I know it's really you?" he asked. Fine it looked like Bob Fraser and talked like Bob Fraser but Bob Fraser was dead.  
  
"Ask me question then," Bob Fraser told him. He had been expecting this. Had he been in Buck's position he would have had his suspicions too.  
  
"Alright," Buck agreed. He asked the first question that came into his head. "There was an incident in Drigon's canyon where my horse was shot out from under me. I was wondering, can you name that horse?"  
  
That was it? Bob Fraser had been expecting something much harder. After all they had been through when they were younger. The name of a criminal they had captured perhaps or something about Buck's speech at his wedding. "You can't think of a harder question?"  
  
"What's wrong with the question?" It was something only Bob Fraser would know. Well Bob Fraser and their superior at the time, a few other officers maybe. Alright it wasn't the best question but it would work for Buck.  
  
"Well you might have come up with something a bit more interesting. I mean the name of a horse!" Bob Fraser was still annoyed.  
  
"Aha! You're stalling." Buck pointed out. The real Bob Fraser would know in a second.  
  
"Sprocket. Satisfied?" The apparition gave his answer in a slightly miffed tone. Buck thought he was stalling? How could he? You get slower when you're dead, it gets harder to think.  
  
"Well I'll be..." Buck smiled at his rediscovered friend. "It really is you."  
  
"Yes it is." Bob agreed. It didn't take him long to get to the point. "So what's our plan?"  
  
"Our plan?" Buck was confused. First Fraser and Detective Vecchio had told him the train was in the control of hostile forces then his dead friend reappeared and now that dead friend was asking about a plan? Buck could barely keep up.  
  
"Yes to get this train back in control," Bob Fraser said. Sure death slowed you down but in Buck's case it appeared that age had the same effect. It had been so long since they were those young idealistic RCMP officers who by now would have got the train back under control. Well Bob Fraser was fairly confident they would. The memory got hazy with death too.  
  
"I'm about to talk with Benton, see if we can't come up with something," Buck told him.  
  
Bob Fraser looked knowing as he replied, "I don't think you'll have the opportunity."  
  
"Oh? Why's that?"   
  
Fraser senior was, however, quite right. Outside Fraser was patiently waiting for Buck when he heard a noise from further up the train. He couldn't work out whether it was a clunk or a thud. Perhaps it was a mix of the two. Whatever it was it sounded like someone was in trouble. Ray had gone that way. It could be him in trouble. Fraser couldn't wait anymore. He had to find out.  
  
"Excuse me, Sergeant Frobisher?" he asked. His superior was taking a long time. Fraser hoped he didn't disturb him from his...activities.  
  
"Yes, son?" Buck spoke up.  
  
"I have to go and check on Ray and the Superintendent," Fraser said. It was more Ray than the Superintendent. It was Ray who Fraser was worried about, cared about. "I'll be right back. In the meantime I will leave Diefenbaker. I suggest you make your way to the engine. We'll meet you there."  
  
"Alright," Buck replied. He was not in the slightest bit worried. Young Fraser knew what he was doing.   
  
Bob Fraser senior was giving Buck a look that said `I told you so'. Being dead did have certain advantages. Bob Fraser didn't always know how he knew these things. He just knew them. Unfortunately no-one seemed to listen to his insights these days. Being dead had its disadvantages too.  
  
As Fraser went off down the carriage it was very quiet. If he were inclined toward dramatics he might have thought it too quiet but as it was he was listening carefully to the slightest sound that might make itself heard. As he reached the carriage Ray had been heading to he saw his friend. Ray looked rather worried and he was wearing his blue dress uniform. The Chicago PD had insisted he bring it with him as it was an official occasion. No doubt they themselves had been hoping for some exposure. Ray had stored it in the carriage when they had arrived.  
  
"You've changed," Fraser stated. He was surprised to see Ray in his dress uniform. The only other time he had seen him in it was at Louis Gardino's funeral, a very sad occasion. Still Fraser liked the look of Ray in his dress uniform. The colour blue seemed to suit Ray's complexion. The collar certainly flattered Ray's neck and the trousers emphasised his friend's waist and hips. It was indeed a flattering cut. Fraser had often thought it a pity Ray hadn't worn it since Gardino's funeral. Still something wasn't right. Not only had Ray changed but there was a look of fear in his eyes. Realising something was wrong, Fraser was about to turn around but it was too late as a gun was pressed to his temple. "Interesting isn't it?" the fake director spoke. "I mean here we have two pillars of law enforcement, one in red and one in blue. Fascinating isn't it? Let's think red or blue, red or blue. Of course doesn't matter what uniform cops wear `cos I won't respect them. They are just tools for this shadow government. Though I'm sure you'll respect me, Constable, as I have a gun to your head." As if to prove a point the man pressed it harder against Fraser's temple.  
  
Fraser realised there was no use fighting. He only hoped Buck Frobisher would be able to stop the train. "Oh dear," was his only comment.  
  
The fake director - well terrorist there was no pretending he was a director - now smiled at Fraser's words. "Yes indeed, Constable, oh dear. You're going to do something for me. You and Detective Vecchio."  
  
Before Fraser knew it, he and Ray, with their hands tied behind their backs, were being forced to read out a prepared statement through the speakerphone on the train. Sadly Ray's cell phone had been confiscated and thrown out of the window. The terrorist had asked who they wanted to call. Which person would be most likely to listen to them? He had found it an amusing idea. Fraser had suggested they call Detective Huey, partially in the hope that the Chicago PD might be able to help them in their current situation. Ray had agreed with that point but had still protested.  
  
"I ain't reading any of your political garbage!" he said. Ray thought he knew the sort. The government was bad and evil, selling out the USA to the UN or something like that. He didn't want to be seen to condoning that. He just thought those type of people were nuts.  
  
"It's not political, detective, nor is it garbage." The terrorist waved a gun in Ray's face just to remind him what he had to lose. "It's a simple statement for cash. If you prefer I can shoot you and your friend here now and let God take his vengeance on the rest of the train..."  
  
Ray capitulated, not when he saw the gun but when he saw the look in Fraser's eyes. It said `this is serious Ray, I don't like this either but we have to co-operate for the sake of the hostages'. Ray knew Fraser was right. There wasn't much to be gained from the two of them being shot in the head.  
  
********************************************************************  
  
Huey was at the poker game Ray had told Fraser about. He had his cell phone with him. He'd rather he didn't. It was a $1200 pot that kept on growing and Huey had a hell of a hand. The last thing he wanted was a phone call. Unfortunately that's what he got. Huey sounded weary as he reluctantly picked up the phone. It had better be important.  
  
"This is Detective first grade Ray Vecchio of the Chicago PD," Ray read out as soon as Huey had picked up the phone.   
  
What, Ray?" Huey asked. "Is this a joke?" Huey couldn't understand why Ray was being so formal. He was also a little annoyed. What was Ray doing calling him at a time like this?  
  
"Myself, Constable Fraser, and 30 members of the RCMP's musical ride are being held hostage."  
  
"Hold on," Huey told him. At the word hostage Huey had realised this wasn't necessarily a joke. Anyway whether it was or wasn't at least taping the thing meant he could get back to the game. Fortunately Huey had his Dictaphone with him. He kept it with him in case he had to go and tape a statement. Cops were always on call for something. Huey held the phone to the Dictaphone and the rest of the statement was taped while he played, and lost, the pot.  
  
"We are reading a prepared statement," Fraser said, having been motioned to talk. He just hoped Detective Huey was listening. "Our captors have some demands....."  
  
"Yes," the terrorist said, clearly he liked attention as he decided to break in and speak himself.   
  
Fraser thought this wasn't exactly a good idea for the terrorist. However it would certainly work to his and Ray's advantage. He was sure he had heard the click of a Dictaphone on the other end, as he had hoped. If the statement was being taped the terrorist's voice could easily be used for identification purposes. The terrorist however didn't appear to be interested. He was far more interested in making demands.  
  
"Our demands are as follows: Ten million dollars and that's US dollars none of your Canadian rubbish, to be delivered by Detective Jack Huey of the Chicago Police Department. He will be unaccompanied and leave the ransom at station siding number 33 on the Paliser line by 4PM central standard time. Any attempt to take this train by force and *boom*! The RCMP will be scattered across the state. I don't want any helicopters, any B-52 squadrons. I'll be watching. Be vigilant America for the enemy is already among us."  
  
The call was then ended. The terrorist just laughed and held his gun vaguely in the direction of Ray and Fraser. It wasn't as if they could go anywhere anyway. They were far too tied up. Besides there were two other male terrorists by the door with rifles and a female terrorist with a handgun hugging her leader and complimenting him on his brilliance. Ray and Fraser looked forlorn and hoped Buck Frobisher was doing what he could.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Buck Frobisher was also thinking just that. Although his location wasn't the most conducive atmosphere. Just being on a train in such a perilous position was clouding his thoughts. He felt fortunate he had his dead friend to turn to.  
  
"We need to do something, Bob," Buck stated with conviction.  
  
"Yes. I suggest we go to the engine as Benton suggested," Bob said. He could see no other course of action at the present time and their location wasn't brilliant.  
  
"What can that accomplish?" Buck asked. He had very little idea of the situation. Benton was the man with the answers at the present time.  
  
"Well I'm sure we'll figure something out. We're Mounties," Fraser senior stated with pride as if that answer would solve their problems.  
  
"Alright," Buck agreed. "Let's go."  
  
********************************************************************  
  
Meanwhile in Chicago, Detective Jack Huey raced in the station of District 27. Ignoring the buzz of the bullpen and people calling after him wondering what he was doing in the station on his day off, he headed straight for Lieutenant Welsh's office, not caring if his superior was busy. This was important.  
  
"Sir!" he said breathlessly as he flung the door open. "We have a situation. Vecchio and Fraser are in trouble!"  
  
"What have they done this time?" sighed a long suffering Welsh as he put down the sandwich he had been about to eat. He had thought that this RCMP thing might get them out of his hair for a bit. It seemed that this wasn't to be.  
  
"No, sir, you really need to listen to this."  
  
Huey set the Dictaphone on Welsh's desk and played the tape. Lieutenant Welsh listened in ever increasing horror. He lost his appetite for his sandwich as the tape ended. In no time at all Welsh was on the phone to the FBI. How did Vecchio and the Mountie manage to get themselves into these things? Yet for all the things they did get themselves into, they worked so well together. Welsh smiled, those terrorists didn't stand a chance.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Sadly back on the train Ray and Fraser weren't as optimistic. They were tied to each other in what Fraser thought of as...a rather intimate way: as if they were embracing. Many times Fraser had wanted to embrace Ray, in fact do more than simply embrace Ray but this wasn't such a scenario.  
  
"Now," the terrorist addressed them. "I like this picture, so sweet, partners together and such good friends." There was a cruel tone to the man's voice as he put his arms around them in mock affection. He made sure they saw the gun he had - a symbol of the power he had over them. "I'm sure you're wondering who I am."  
  
"Not really, we know you're a nut with a bomb. That's all we need to know," Ray told him. He was in no mood to talk with a crazy person. Fraser was silent.  
  
"Ah, so brave Detective. Pity it's not going to do any good. I'm here for justice, gentlemen. The truth about the government. The name Randall Bolt will go down as one with glory. Sadly you're going to have to die." Bolt removed his arms from his prisoners and took up a position opposite them, staring to gauge their reaction.  
  
"Die?!" Ray exclaimed. He hadn't actually believed that would happen.  
  
"The ransom is a diversion?" Fraser asked. He had suspected as much. There was no way they'd let people live who could identify them, especially law enforcement officers.  
  
"Yes. It'll be nice to have but this train is rigged with explosives. When it hits Chicago...*BOOM*" and Bolt demonstrated the action with his hands. He was rather theatrical. "Such a shame - you guys would have made a great film."  
  
"And if the authorities destroy the train before then?" Fraser asked. That would be a logical course of action for them to take in order to prevent the train exploding and injuring any innocent people.  
  
"Doesn't matter. I'll be gone with the cash and having you blow up won't take my name out of the papers. Pity about your superior." Bolt indicated the unconscious Superintendent on the floor. "I think he should get out more. Don't you?"  
  
Bolt indicated to a couple of his men. They picked up the Superintendent as if he was a pillow and threw him from an open window. He would serve as an example that the terrorists were serious. There was also no danger he would identify his captors, He could barely remember the faces and names of those who worked under him. That was if the fall didn't kill him. Fortunately for Superintendent Moffat he landed on a pile of leaves in a garden next to the track.  
  
"Now, if you'll excuse me gentlemen, we have some charges to set! See you later, morning glory!" Bolt had a triumphant tone to his voice.  
  
With that Bolt and his people left Fraser and Ray alone. They didn't even bother with a guard so sure were they that their prisoners couldn't escape their bonds. So they were all alone. Alone and very tied up.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Back in Chicago, the FBI had taken over the station. They had filled it with all kinds of equipment: tape recorders, computers, you could barely move in the bullpen for all their gear. They'd had confirmation of the situation. A Superintendent Moffat had been thrown from the train. He had a bad bump on his head and didn't appear to be talking much sense. The Mickey Mouse ears were also awaiting explanation.  
  
Right now Agent Ford was in Lieutenant Welsh's office discussing the situation or, in the eyes of Lieutenant Welsh and most of the other officers, telling him how the FBI was going to make a mess of things this time.   
  
"We're sending in a response team. They should be ready within the hour," he informed Huey and Welsh, not caring for a response from either of them.  
  
A response was however what he got from Detective Huey. "What, are you crazy? You heard what the guy said, any sign of taking the train and they'll kill the hostages."  
  
"We don't have time to worry about that," Ford said. He was glad he had control of this situation. It would give him a chance to finally show the Chicago PD that when it came to the crunch, in a big situation, he did have what it took and then they'd have to eat their words. "If the train's rigged we need to make sure it doesn't reach Chicago. Unless you'd like to see Chicago blown up, Detective, let us deal with the situation."  
  
"What about the ransom?" Huey asked. Surely there was a chance to end the situation peacefully? Or, if not, to buy some time for Vecchio and the Mountie.  
  
"The RCMP are sending it over. The guy wants in cash. It's in about twenty bags. It's not practical but what else can we do?" said Welsh. He was concerned about the forthcoming operation. Ray was right; Agent Ford was still an idiot.  
  
"You're just the delivery boy Detective." Agent Ford gave a sneer. "Nothing else." Any glory would belong to the FBI; Ford would make sure of it.  
  
"Are you sure there's no way to get in contact with the train?" Welsh asked. He'd feel better if there was some way for Vecchio to contact them.  
  
"We're tracking it across the network," Agent Ford replied. That had been the reason for so many computers and other equipment. "We know where it is every second."  
  
"What about Fraser and Vecchio?" Welsh asked. He was sure they would be doing something.  
  
"What, the Mountie? They're not important. What is the Musical Ride anyway? Some sort of fairground thing?" Agent Ford was somewhat nave.  
  
"No," Welsh replied. "It's about horsemanship. Gives the RCMP the chance to show off their skills on horseback. And their red uniforms." It was a sight to see. It kept up good PR for the RCMP. What sort of PR was going to come out of this, Welsh could only guess.  
  
"Okay people let's go!" Ford had left the room and was now clapping his hands and bossing agents and cops about.  
  
Seeing the scene and the mess that had been of made his squad room Welsh just sighed. It was going to be a long day. He decided to get back to his sandwich. At least Agent Ford couldn't kill his appetite. Huey having been motioned to leave, sighed and went back into the fray.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Sergeant Frobisher was also sighing. Getting to the engine was easy, as was distracting the terrorist who had been left in charge of the controls. Obviously the real driver had been disposed of. Probably before the train had even left the loading post. Buck had managed to floor the man with just one punch and now had the villain tied up and gagged. Now Buck stood at the controls with a dead Bob Fraser and a deaf wolf trying to make sense of all the levers and knobs. He could hardly ask the terrorist for help.  
  
"Okay, which lever is the brake?" he asked his companions.  
  
"What are asking me for?" Bob Fraser retorted. "I have no idea."  
  
"I thought you did! You seem to know just about everything else," Buck groused. The knowledge of one Bob Fraser had shown him up on more than one occasion. Bob Fraser, like his parents, appeared to collect knowledge. It was a trait he had passed onto his son.  
  
"Well I don't." Bob replied. Not liking having to admit he didn't know but then again he was dead, it dulled the brain. "Now let's take a look," he said to encourage Buck.  
  
They spent a while looking over the levers. There were so many of them. There were dials, switches. The operation of the modern train had changed much since the days of steam. Those were the trains Buck could remember. This new fangled diesel made little sense to him. He was checking the levers for a third time when Dief whined and looked at one.   
  
"There it is!" exclaimed Buck.  
  
"How do you know?" Bob Fraser was sceptical. He hadn't been the one to find it.  
  
"It says on it - Brake."  
  
Bob Fraser was still sceptical, "Could be a ruse. The terrorists could have mislabelled it."  
  
"Why? Surely they would want to stop the train," Buck remembered all those arguments he'd had with Bob Fraser in the past. Even the man's death hadn't stopped them.  
  
"Well....."  
  
"I say we try it. We haven't got much to lose," Buck said with a firm tone. They had to act.  
  
"Alright," Bob agreed, albeit reluctantly.  
  
However just as Buck was about to pull the brake lever Bob Fraser stopped him. He had been right to be sceptical. "Wait," he said. "Look at this."  
  
There was a wire leading from the brake to some sort of device. There wasn't anything to indicate what the device was, though it was clear that it wasn't meant to be there. It was also firmly attached to the braking mechanism.  
  
"We pull the brake there's no telling what will happen," Bob Fraser said sagely.  
  
Buck considered this. "Hmm...you're right," he said. What should they do? They needed help. "We need more information. Where are Benton and Detective Vecchio?"  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Benton Fraser and Ray Vecchio had their own trouble. They were tied up, very firmly together. Both had their arms around each other as if in an embrace. Their hands were handcuffed together. Their legs were tied up as well. There was very little movement they could make.  
  
"I'm sorry about your gun, Ray," Fraser apologised feeling as always guilty for getting Ray into such a situation. "Maybe we wouldn't be in this pickle if I'd let you bring it."  
  
"Yeah," Ray agreed. He was a bit annoyed that Fraser had stuck so rigidly to the rules but that was just who Fraser was. Ray understood Fraser's actions and went along with them, even when he didn't entirely agree. He smiled slightly and made a suggestion. "Next time we have to cross the border can we make sure one of us is armed?"  
  
"Well, Ray as in this instance we are crossing the border....." Fraser was about to launch into an explanation when Ray interrupted him.  
  
"So I get the gun in the US and you get it in Canada. We take turns. Being armed beats the hell outta being tied up."  
  
"That much is true, Ray. I suppose it's my fault?" Fraser was quite willing to take the blame and face Ray's wrath if that was what Ray wanted.  
  
"Well, it's not your fault the train got taken over by terrorists. But a gun would have been useful," Ray conceded. It was true that while Fraser was Canadian he wasn't psychic.  
  
"Understood. Still....." Fraser just couldn't let it alone. Ray had been so understanding and forgiving, it didn't seem fair.  
  
"No! Quit apologising, Benny. What's happened has happened. Now we're in this situation we just are okay?" Ray flashed his anger a bit knowing that was what Fraser wanted. It was weird; it was as if Fraser enjoyed having someone tell him he had crazy ideas. Ray had no idea why.   
  
"It's just I hope this situation doesn't make you uncomfortable."  
  
In truth it wasn't uncomfortable, at least not for him. To be so close to Ray, to feel his body pressed up against his own. To have Ray's scent, so unique, filling his nostrils. To be so close to the lips he longed to kiss. No it wasn't comfortable, it was sheer torture. Fraser had tried not to look into Ray's eyes. Now he did so, wondering what he would see there.  
  
Ray likewise felt he should look at Fraser. He wasn't uncomfortable. He had wanted to get this close to the Mountie for a long time. A very long time. Fraser was just...perfect in Ray's eyes. The firmness of his body, smelling of the outdoors. Ray was so close to those lips he wanted to kiss...It was agony!   
  
"How are we going to get out of this, Benny?" Ray asked. He was whispering, looking deep into Fraser's eyes. `God I love him' was the only thought in Ray's head.   
  
"I have an idea, Ray" Fraser replied. "You might not like it. It requires us to get....closer." Oh how Fraser wanted to get closer to Ray. But it was true the only plan he had involved them getting closer.  
  
"What, closer than this?" Ray tried to indicate their close proximity. Oh how he wanted to get closer to Fraser.  
  
"Yes," Fraser tried to keep his breathing steady.  
  
"What is it, Benny?" He had presumed Fraser's breathing had changed because he was uncomfortable with the idea. Of course Ray didn't know it was for the exact opposite reason.  
  
"Well," Fraser seemed reluctant. If he got closer to Ray there was no telling what he might give away.  
  
"Fraser!" Ray just wanted to escape this situation. He didn't want to deal with it at that moment. Who knows what he might give away.  
  
"In my collar, Ray, there is a small length of wire. If you could open up my collar and extract it I might be able to use it to pick the handcuff lock. I think I can move my hands up around your neck. Of course our close proximity prevents me from lifting them up completely."  
  
"You want me to open your collar," Ray said, trying not to speak. His breathing wasn't very steady either.  
  
"Yes," Fraser breathed gently.  
  
Ray slowly moved into position. "You're sure?" Ray didn't mean to push it. But being so close to Fraser, he wasn't sure what would happen.  
  
Fraser nodded. He hated the lack of eye contact now Ray was at his collar. It reminded Fraser so much of Lake Michigan. `If only I had kissed him then' he thought. He had had such a good opportunity. Why hadn't he taken it? He knew why, because he had been scared Ray would reject him.   
  
Little did Fraser know Ray would never reject him. In fact Ray was trying to control his breathing as he approached Fraser's collar. If Fraser knew what Ray wanted to do to him! He would take off that tunic and....Ray tried to control his fantasies. He was so tempted to kiss Fraser's neck....and other things of course. What Ray didn't know was that Fraser was having the exact same fantasies.  
  
The collar was fastened with Velcro. Ray managed to get hold of one side and pull the collar apart. It happened fairly easily. Now he had exposed Fraser's neck. He took a second to appreciate the view he was afforded before he nuzzled at that neck, trying to find the thin piece of wire in the collar.  
  
Fraser on the other hand was still trying to control his breathing. Ray was so close now, his breath caressing Fraser's neck. He could feel Ray's cheek against his skin as Ray nuzzled to find the wire. The sensation was highly erotic. `If Ray can just do this with his breathing what would a kiss be like?' he thought.   
  
He was still thinking about it when Ray emerged, breaking that precious contact, with the wire in his mouth. Ray had a slight smile on his face. It was one of triumph but also a hint of regret that he no longer had the contact with Fraser's neck.  
  
"What now?" Ray asked through clenched teeth, trying to be nonchalant.  
  
"Let me, Ray," Fraser replied and almost gulped. He had to get closer to Ray.  
  
He brought his mouth close to Ray's. He was sorely tempted to kiss Ray, deeply, right then and there. Then they would....oh the possibilities Fraser had thought up. Ray also wished Fraser would kiss him. Ray would kiss him back. Then they would.....oh the possibilities. Ray shuffled uneasily. Fraser stopped millimetres from Ray's lips and took the wire from his mouth.  
  
Fraser then stretched around, pushing himself harder against Ray. Both men enjoyed the feeling of such close contact but were also feeling awkward that their partner might find out. Both wished they had been tied up naked, together.   
  
Fraser transferred the wire from his mouth to his hands which were stretched around Ray's neck. As he fiddled with the lock, his face pressed close to Ray's neck Fraser started some conversation. It was the only way to keep his mind off the sight in front of him, Ray.  
  
"Your uniform suits you, Ray."  
  
"Really?" Ray was surprised. He'd never thought the uniform did much for him. He had been glad when he made Detective and had the chance to wear his own clothes.  
  
"Yes, Ray. Blue is your colour," Fraser said earnestly. Mind you Ray could wear anything and Fraser would still think him beautiful. "Blue suits you," he continued. "It's a shame you don't wear it so much."  
  
"Well I'm not you, Benny. I don't look as good in my uniform," Ray said and boy did Fraser look good in his uniform, be it the brown, the red, or those flannel shirts he insisted on wearing.  
  
"Are you saying I do?" Fraser knew women liked a uniform, it was a nice revelation that Ray seemed to as well.  
  
"Yeah," Ray smiled one of his best smiles. It didn't matter Fraser couldn't see it as he was too busy fiddling with the lock. What mattered to Ray was that he had this intimate moment with Fraser. "Red suits you and brown does too."  
  
"Thank you kindly, Ray," Fraser replied, smiling slightly himself. He took the liberty of smelling Ray, while he had the opportunity. Ray had such a wonderful smell. It was filling Fraser's nostrils.  
  
"What scent are you wearing, Ray?" he asked. The words were out of his mouth before he could regret them.  
  
"Err...why do ya want to know, Benny?" Ray sounded a little unsure but it was that this conversation had taken an interesting turn.  
  
"It's a very nice scent, Ray. It's uniquely you. You...you smell nice." Fraser couldn't help himself. The words just tumbled out. It was how he felt.  
  
"Thanks, Benny" Ray kept the trembles out of his voice. "It's Emporio Armani."  
  
"Is it as expensive as their suits?" Fraser asked knowing how Ray liked anything `Armani'.  
  
"Oh yeah," Ray agreed. "But it's worth it."  
  
"I agree." Ray did smell very nice. Fraser wondered if Ray would object to some scientific exploration.  
  
"You don't wear stuff like that do you, Benny?" Ray asked. He knew Fraser liked to keep things simple. Yet another reason to love the guy. "No."  
  
"Ah you don't need it. You smell good anyway." Ray found the words just came to him. He did find Fraser had a very pleasant smell as he had discovered while he was fiddling trying to find the wire in Fraser's collar.  
  
"Thank you kindly, Ray," Fraser replied as he managed to undo the handcuffs.  
  
Fraser then pulled back and looked at Ray. Yet again he was struck with a desire to kiss him but just smiled slightly instead. "I'll do your handcuffs now, Ray," he said.  
  
To Ray's dismay Fraser actually untied their legs first. Ray would have said "What are you doing down there?" but really he was enjoying it. Fraser then slipped out of Ray's arms to work on the handcuffs, to the disappointment of both men, not that they would admit that. They were free. Fraser looked into Ray's eyes again. Would a kiss be badly received? Now Fraser wasn't so sure. After all hadn't they been flirting? Or perhaps it was Fraser's imagination. Besides they had to stop the train.  
  
Ray was also loathe to be parted from Fraser. Hadn't they been flirting in their usual roundabout way? Ray had wanted to kiss Fraser but now wasn't the right moment. Fraser had something on his mind. Still Ray couldn't suppress a sigh when Fraser said, "Come on, Ray. Let's find Sergeant Frobisher."  
  
Both knew it wasn't over. Sure they had a train to stop but that wasn't going to stop them remembering what a glorious feeling it was being so close.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
The train was also close, close to the ransom pickup. It had taken about twenty bags, and quite large bags at that, to fit in all ten million dollars in and even then was in high denominations of notes. But the money had to be in cash. No-one had ever given a terrorist a cheque. Although Huey was supposed to go on his own to the ransom pickup, he needed some other officers to help him get all the bags to the station. He wandered into the office.   
  
"Hi," he said to the stationmaster. "I'm Detective Huey, Chicago PD. We phoned you earlier about a ransom drop?"  
  
The stationmaster was an old guy with glasses. He had to adjust them to get a better look at Huey. Once he was satisfied he spoke: "Ah so you're the police. Here about a ransom or something?"  
  
"That's right," Huey couldn't help a slight smile.  
  
"Where is it?"   
  
"Here," Huey indicated the bags piled around him.  
  
The stationmaster shook his head. "No use trying to fit that lot on the mail pole," he said. "Too many, they won't all fit. Your best bet is to tie them together with a rope and have them pick up the bags as a bundle."  
  
Alright," Huey agreed. "Do you have some rope?"  
  
The stationmaster produced a long length from behind the counter. He and Huey then had to drag all the bags outside. They left them near the track and tied them together with the length of rope. It was hard work and time was of the essence but eventually it was done. With just a few minutes to spare Huey and the stationmaster waited anxiously by the tracks. They saw the train approach and some men at the back hooked the bags and managed to manhandle them onto the train. Now all they could do was wait.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Fraser and Ray weren't interesting in waiting. Right now they were running through the train to the engine. Just before they reached the carriage leading to the engine they saw Buck Frobisher and Diefenbaker. Only Fraser saw his dead father.  
  
"Ah I see you've made it," Buck said.  
  
"Yeah after we escaped from a madman," Ray told him. The guy who had taken control of the train was definitely a psychopath in Ray's book.  
  
"A madman?" Buck was somewhat confused.  
  
"Yes," Fraser said. "The terrorist we're dealing does have what might be termed as, psychopathic tendencies."  
  
"Yeah the money was a bonus. The guy really just wants a big bang," Ray added. It was best to say it like it was at times like this and neither Ray nor Fraser had minced their words.  
  
"Oh dear," Bick said unaware he was in fact giving a classic `Fraser line'. He seemed calm but in fact was extremely worried.  
  
"What about the train?" Fraser asked, hoping there was a way out of their current predicament. He wasn't worried, he was concerned.  
  
"I'm afraid stopping it might be out of the question," Buck replied sadly with a tone of defeat in his voice.  
  
"We can't stop it?! Why?" Ray asked quite loudly. It was one thing after another. Why did things like this always happen to him?  
  
"There's device attached to the brake. It could be part of a bomb," Buck explained not mentioning it was a dead Bob Fraser who had pointed this out. He looked at his dead friend for confirmation and Bob Fraser nodded.  
  
"Oh great (!)" Ray was sarcastic, a way of hiding the fact he was actually very worried about the situation. "We're on the train ride from hell."   
  
"Surely there's some way of bypassing it?" Fraser asked, ever hopeful.   
  
In the end it was Bob Fraser who spoke up, tired of the silence, "Ah no, son, I looked at it myself. You're wasting your time."  
  
Both Fraser and Buck looked at him and ignored him. They weren't dead yet, they still had something to lose. A fact which seemed to escape Bob Fraser every time he offered advice.  
  
"I suggest we try," came the confident tone of Fraser.  
  
"Okay." Buck nodded.   
  
It wasn't that simple however. It was never that simple with Fraser involved. As they came to the end of the carriage and went outside to make their way into the engine itself, Fraser caught sight of one of the terrorist thugs. Ray noticed Fraser going in hot pursuit and climbing up the ladder at the side of carriage and onto the roof of the train.  
  
"Hey!" he called, worried his friend was off on another crazy mission. "Where are you goin'?"  
  
"I'll be right back, Ray," was Fraser's reply. There was nothing to worry about from Fraser's point of view. He had to go after the criminal, who knows what useful information he might have? With that Fraser climbed up after the thug onto the roof of the carriage. What he had failed to appreciate was that the thug was armed while he was not. He chased the thug for a little way across the roof before the thug turned and faced him. The thug took a swing at him with what Fraser assumed to be an axe. Fraser managed to dodge this. There were another couple of swings which Fraser ably dodged before he went forward and managed to grab hold of the axe. He tried to wrestle out of the grip of the thug who was relatively evenly matched in terms of strength and size.  
  
While this was going on down below Ray told Buck, "I'm going after him."  
  
"Is that a good idea?"   
  
"I don't have choice. He's my partner," Ray replied. He's also the person I care and love most in the world but he wasn't about to tell that to Buck. Or to Fraser for that matter.   
  
"Still you're not armed, son. It could be dangerous." Buck felt there was no need for Ray to go. Benton was perfectly capable of handling himself in such situations.  
  
"I know but I can't let Fraser face that guy on his own." He had a feeling Fraser was in trouble. He couldn't explain this to Buck so went ahead with Buck calling after him.  
  
The talking with Buck had wasted precious seconds. Ray climbed the ladder two rungs at time, so desperate was he to make it to the top. His feeling of dread was getting stronger. He made it up the ladder only to see Fraser and the thug wrestling the axe. They were dangerously close to the edge.  
  
"Benny, look out!" Ray called as he hauled himself onto the roof. He could see the thug was about to take a particularly big swing.  
  
Fraser got slightly distracted by the sound of Ray's voice. What was Ray doing coming after him? Before he knew it the thug was upon him. The thug grabbed Fraser as he lost his balance and Fraser went over the edge with the man.   
  
Ray had seen the whole event and was feeling slightly sick. "Fraser!" he shouted, now he was on the roof and running to where his friend had been. There was no sign of him.   
  
Ray tried desperately to see his friend. Where was Fraser? Where was he? Ray called out again but received no answer. Finally the call of Buck from below meant Ray had to turn away and make his way back down to inform his colleagues of what had just happened, not that Ray could believe it. Ray could hardly keep steady as he climbed down the ladder. His palms were sweaty and he felt an uneasy queasiness in his stomach. He was relieved when he was back on the solid platform of the train.  
  
Dief met him as he got off the ladder. He patted the wolf, ignoring Buck. "I'm sorry Dief," he said.   
  
Dief whined and looked over the side, sniffing for his master. He was looking for Fraser. He knew he wouldn't be dead. There was a faint smell of him on the air. Dief wondered why Ray hadn't picked it up.  
  
"You think he's dead then?" It was Buck who spoke.  
  
Ray gave a cynical smile, "He fell off a train. I thought he was indestructible but I guess...." Ray still couldn't believe Fraser was dead. Ray started pacing. "Dammit he wasn't supposed to die like this." Ray felt a little anger. Fraser wasn't supposed to die falling off a train. He'd fallen off buildings, cars, vans, why did he have to die now?  
  
Buck felt awkward. He never knew what to say at times like this. He cleared his throat, "Now, son. It wasn't your fault."  
  
"Yeah right," Ray replied, trying to hold in his emotion. Quite frankly he didn't want Buck's sympathy. He just wanted Fraser.  
  
Fraser senior coughed, "Come on, Buck, console the boy. Benton was his best friend." Bob Fraser never knew why his son was so attached to the Chicago Detective but he knew they were very close.  
  
"Fraser made his own choice. He chose to go after the man," Buck said. He had no idea what he should be saying.  
  
Ray gave little acknowledgement to Buck's supposed words of comfort. He just sat back down and started stroking Dief's fur. The feel of Dief's fur was his only connection to the world. In his mind he was with his best friend.  
  
"I mean if he is dead...." Buck trailed off not sure how to end the sentence.  
  
Bob Fraser winced at this, "I doubt that."  
  
Buck gave Bob Fraser a funny look. Was Benton dead?   
  
Ray looked to Dief. He felt better talking to a wolf than trying to face Buck Frobisher who appeared to not know what to say. Ray absently stroked Dief's fur as he spoke. "Sure he annoyed the hell outta me but he was my best friend. I mean...he was...Fraser."  
  
Buck cleared his throat again. He felt he had to make some effort to understand. "Son. Sometimes between men and, well men, things come up, feelings, and well it's not a crime."  
  
Ray looked at Buck rather oddly. He didn't really want to talk to Buck. No-one could understand what he felt for Fraser, no-one. That Mountie was the one in Ray's eyes. The person he could settle down with and love for every remaining day of his life. Except Fraser had never known this and Ray had never told him.  
  
"Well nuff said," Buck paused awkwardly. "Right now we have other things to worry about." He was alluding to the train but it seemed Ray wasn't interested in that. Buck worried that they might not be able to stop the train.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Huey had cause to worry as he was having trouble persuading the stationmaster that it was important they track the train. It appeared the old guy had been left behind in the scheme of modernisation. He was very knowledgeable about the rail system and had bored Huey with his knowledge but he seemed to be unsure abut how they were going to keep an eye on the train.  
  
"Look is there any way we can find out where they are?" Huey asked, not for the first time.  
  
The station master looked thoughtful. "There's the new fangled electronic system they put in but I don't know how to work the thing."   
  
Huey sounded a little happier. Sure he wasn't a big technology whiz but he figured he could try. "Let's take a look," he suggested.  
  
The stationmaster brought him to the computer terminal. The keyboard was cluttered and the cover was still over the screen. The computer was off. Huey got to work, he moved the various objects that were cluttering the computer keyboard, removed the dust cover and turned the computer on. The thing came to life with a whirr as the computer booted itself up. So far, so good. This wasn't too hard Huey thought. Then the screen came to life and asked him to input his username and password. Yet another obstacle.   
  
"Do you know you username and password?" Huey asked.  
  
"Nope," the station master replied. "What is that?" He was very surprised the Detective had managed to get the thing up and running at all. No-one had bothered to show him. It had been simply delivered, put in position and left up to him to work out. It wasn't his fault he'd been ill when he was supposed to go on the course to tell him how to operate the thing. This detective seemed to know what he was doing.  
  
Huey sighed. This wasn't turning out as well as he had hoped. There had to be some way to do this. He was tempted to get Elaine on the phone to ask her before the stationmaster suddenly remembered something.  
  
"Wait a minute!" he snapped his fingers. "They gave me a piece of paper with something on."  
  
Huey still wasn't completely convinced. For all he knew the stationmaster meant the computer manual and that would be of no help. Still he decided to let the old guy look. He had no other ideas. The stationmaster rummaged around various boxes and files. Huey had no idea there was so much paperwork associated with running a train station. His thoughts were interrupted by a cry of "Ahah!" The stationmaster held a scrap of paper in his hand.  
  
"Here," he said. "Will this do?" Yes it would. It was the username and password. Inputting the information Huey brought up the screen of the system network and their train as a small blip. Now they knew where the train was. Huey felt far more confident.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
The terrorists were also feeling confident. Everything had gone to plan. The Mountie and the Chicago cop had been taken care of, the rest of the Mounties were asleep; there was nothing to stop them. It was time to put the next phase of the plan into operation. It was time to lay the charges.  
  
"I'm going to enjoy this," Bolt smiled as he grabbed hold of some explosive and coils of wire. "Come on, let's lay some charges." And he grabbed hold of the woman terrorist and kissed her.  
  
"Oh yes!" the woman in the group said. "I love it when you lay charges." She was very attracted to Bolt; he had such power about him.  
  
The mood was slightly ruined when someone else spoke up. "I can't find Brex."  
  
"Forget Brex!" Bolt told him. It didn't matter to Bolt, he wasn't planning on sharing anyway. "We've got to lay these charges."  
  
There wouldn't be a lot of left of the train by they were done. They had enough explosive to blow the train up several times over. Bolt always thought that if you were going to blow something to pieces you were better doing properly. It was just a matter of time now.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
For Ray time had stood still. He couldn't believe Fraser was gone and he had never told him how he felt. God he was dumb! He had feelings, really strong feelings for Fraser and he had never told him. He'd told himself it was because he didn't want to risk their friendship. In reality maybe he had just been scared to admit the truth. It was too late now and Ray would have to live with the guilt.  
  
"I wonder where he is now," Ray said out loud, not expecting an answer but needing to say the words.  
  
"Who?" came the familiar tone of Fraser.  
  
Ray spun round in shock to see Fraser standing there, alive. "You!" Ray exclaimed. "You're alive. How did you survive? You fell off the train!" Fraser was there, he was alive, and Ray couldn't believe it.  
  
Buck also looked interested, though he wasn't as surprised as Ray. Bob Fraser had a look on his face that said `see I knew he wasn't dead'. Dief wasn't that surprised either but had gone and enthusiastically greeted his pack leader  
  
"I was never off the train, Ray," Fraser said matter-of-factly. He was slightly surprised, he had presumed Ray would know what he was planning.   
  
"You fell off the roof!" Ray said.  
  
"Yes but I managed to grab onto the side. I swung myself under the train and hung onto the cables. I was then able to recover and pull myself to safety," Fraser was perfectly calm as he explained it.  
  
"I don't believe it!" Ray ran his hands over his head. "I don't believe it."  
  
"I can assure you, Ray it's the truth," Fraser looked earnestly at his friend. He hadn't worried Ray, had he?  
  
"Good to see you alive, Benton," Buck said, slightly awkwardly.  
  
Ray however, now having got over his initial shock wanted to say a few things to his best friend. "Would you excuse us?" Ray asked Buck and Dief.  
  
"Of course." So Buck, Bob Fraser and Dief all went into the carriage. Fraser just stood there with a bemused look on his face.  
  
"Ray?" he asked unsure as to what his best friend was up to.  
  
"We need to talk, Benny," Ray explained. "Geez where's a closet when you need one?" Ray looked about as if he expected to see one.  
  
"We could use the......" Fraser indicated the carriage.  
  
Ray was annoyed, "We are not using the john, Benny. Let's go on the roof."  
  
"The roof?"   
  
"Yeah now I know you can't fall off."  
  
"Well strictly speaking...." Fraser answered but he was interrupted.  
  
"Just get on the roof, Benny;" and Ray motioned him to the ladder.  
  
So Fraser led the way up onto the roof. He was puzzled as to why Ray was reacting this way. He had thought that Ray would be pleased to see him alive, rather than angry. Then again perhaps Ray hadn't been aware of his plan after all.  
  
Once on the roof Ray went ahead before turning around and facing Fraser. He said nothing but just took a good look at his friend, knowing what he felt inside. He was angry Fraser could have out his life in danger. If he knew what he meant to Ray...  
  
Ray's silence was bothering Fraser. "Ray?" he asked, "What is this all about?"  
  
"Can't you guess, Benny?" Ray asked. His tone had an edge of anger to it which Fraser recognised.  
  
"I have no idea why you are so angry, Ray if I have done something to upset you..." Fraser had been about to try to explain but he was cut off.  
  
"Damn right you did." Ray's tone was clearly angry now.  
  
"I'm sorry?" Fraser had been trying to apologise without being aware of what he was apologising for. He'd just thought it would make Ray happy and that's what he wanted, to make Ray happy.  
  
Ray's tone now was softer, "I thought you were dead, Benny, dead. I was upset."  
  
Fraser brightened a little, "You were upset that you thought I was dead?"  
  
"Yes!" That's what Ray had meant all along, his tone got angry again. "Why do you this Fraser? Why?"  
  
"Why, what?"   
  
"Do that to me. Do you know how much I worry about you? Do you know how much I care about what happens to you? Of course you don't you're Super Mountie." Ray turned away for a minute before facing his friend again.  
  
"Ray, I..." Fraser moved forward, wanting to offer comfort. He had no idea Ray cared about him so deeply.  
  
Ray was having none of it. He came forward, so close to Fraser and looked him directly in the eye as he spoke. "Shut up, Fraser! You act like we're so different but we're not. I'm a cop, you're a cop. I had a lousy father, yours was never there. You believe in people and I try, I really try. You ask me to do stuff and I do it without question. Sure you come from Canada but we're friends, Benny, best friends. Even when I'm up to my armpits in garbage, I never question that and you know why? Because I'm in love with you, because I have been since we met. So what are you gonna do now Mr Mountie?" He'd said it, he'd actually said it.  
  
Fraser's head was spinning; Ray was in love with him? As he was with Ray? This was his chance now, the chance he should have taken before but now here was a perfect opportunity and Fraser wasn't going to let it go to waste. "This Ray," were his only words.  
  
In one swift movement Fraser had captured Ray in an embrace and was right now taking the chance he should have long ago. The time was right for it finally to happen. Fraser took the chance and pressed his lips to Ray's. In seconds the kiss got or so much more passionate and oh so much deeper. Finally love was exchanged and expressed.  
  
Ray could scarcely believe what was happening. For a moment he pulled back from Fraser and smiled as he removed Fraser's Stetson. In that moment Fraser had wondered what Ray was up to but as Ray went into for another passionate kiss he had no need to worry. He didn't mind Ray taking off his Stetson. It meant it was Benton Fraser kissing Ray rather than Constable Benton Fraser.  
  
"Benny," Ray said breathlessly as they parted for air. "I'd love to keep doing this but we've got a train to save."  
  
"Of course," Fraser tried to sound serious but didn't quite manage it. Ray was right they did have a job to do Fraser just hoped Ray wasn't regretting what they had just done.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Huey felt so helpless at the train station, just watching the blip go across the screen. The station master was also looking thoughtful. He couldn't follow the screen; it didn't show clear landmarks like a map did. As they both stared at the blip, wondering about the fate of passengers on it, it suddenly disappeared.  
  
"Where'd it go?" asked Huey. He started clicking buttons to try to bring it back but to no avail. It appeared the stationmaster had been right. Technology was not to be relied upon.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Back in Chicago they were asking the exact same thing as Huey as the blip had disappeared from their screen too. Or actually Agent Ford was shouting the words, "Where'd it go?"  
  
"I don't know sir," came the quiet reply of a junior FBI officer who was simply staring at his blank screen.  
  
"Find it people!" Agent Ford ordered. If they lost the thing it wouldn't look good back in Washington. "This isn't a car, it's a train."  
  
Everyone went back to the computers. They were punching in codes, making phone calls, anything to look busy and keep Agent Ford off their backs. As everyone else was buzzing about trying to avoid the FBI agent Elaine came over, slightly nervous.  
  
She had a piece of paper in her hand that had come over the wire. She was supposed to inform Ford. She started to read. "We have a voice match on the tape, Randall Bolt..."  
  
Before she could continue the paper with the information was snatched out of her hand and began to be read by Agent Ford. Elaine just gave him a look.  
  
"Right," Agent Ford now read the paper out loud, "Bolt, Randall K. Born Oregon, 1953. Ex-military demolition expert. Dishonourably discharged 1987 following an explosion at an officer's mess in Barden Barden. Went underground stateside and resurfaced in a white supremacist group known as the Father's of Confederation. He's been linked to a series of bombings and train derailments as well as several bank robberies."  
  
Just as Agent Ford was about to deliver his professional opinion on the situation one of the other FBI agents called out, "We've got the train back!"  
  
There it was a blip on the screen. Quite what the guy had done he didn't know but now it was back and that should keep Agent Ford happy, at least for awhile. Frankly the guy was such a pain it was no wonder the Bureau shoved him to Chicago so often.  
  
"Good," was Ford's only comment before he turned and started issuing more orders to more hapless agents and cops. "What's the status of the response team?" was his next concern.  
  
Lieutenant Welsh just rolled his eyes and hoped Huey or Vecchio and the Mountie were having better luck. Ray had been right when he said the FBI couldn't find an egg roll in Chinatown. Frankly Welsh was surprised they had got the train tracker back at all.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Although the train had reappeared on the tracking system it wasn't in fact the train. Bolt and his companions had set the charges but to make sure they weren't tracked had sent a truck with the tracking device onboard onto a separate track to give the illusion the train was heading in a different direction, slightly away from Chicago. It had been relatively easy to remove the tracking device and attach it to another vehicle. Bolt knew the FBI would never figure it out. They were far too dumb.  
  
Detective Huey wasn't so dumb though. As soon as the train had disappeared and had definitely disappeared he and the stationmaster had abandoned the computer and gone back to the maps. The knowledge that the stationmaster had was proving invaluable. He soon had the rough location of the train pinpointed on the map and had located a runoff not far from where the train was presumed to be. The only thing they had to do was get the train onto it. They had no chance of reaching it in time. There was no transportation that would get them there quick enough and the terrain was tough and off road. There had to be some way of letting the people on the train know.  
  
"Do you have any way we can get in touch with the train?" Huey asked, not expecting much.  
  
"Yes I have the phone number for their train here," the stationmaster replied. "They should be in range."  
  
Huey smiled. He now had a plan.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Fraser and Ray however were still working on their plan. They had climbed down the ladder, Fraser first and had kept an eye on each other the whole time. In fact they couldn't take their eyes off each other, such was the memory of what had happened. At the sound of them hitting the deck outside the carriage Buck, Dief and Fraser senior had all reappeared.  
  
"Productive talk?" Buck asked.  
  
At this both Fraser and Ray blushed and looked shyly at each other. "Yes, quite productive," Fraser replied.  
  
"Oh, I see," Buck said even though he didn't. "So what's our next move?"  
  
Fraser senior decided the answer his son had given about what had happened on the top of the train with his American friend wasn't good enough. "What sort of productive, son? I mean the look on your face...What happened?"  
  
Fraser chose to ignore his father. In time he supposed he would have to inform the apparition of how he felt about Ray and how Ray seemed to feel about him. Now wasn't the time though. Fraser didn't want to answer his father in front of Ray. He didn't want Ray to think he was crazy.  
  
"Our next move should be to try to stop the terrorists leaving the train," Fraser said.  
  
Buck nodded firmly. "Agreed."  
  
"Do we know where they are?" Ray asked. He was met with slightly confused looks. He had to have asked.  
  
"You can tell me, son. I'm your father." Bob Fraser repeated still wanting to know what had gone on.  
  
Fraser continued to ignore his father. "Well no, Ray but we can assume they will have some way of getting off the train."  
  
"Such as?" Ray asked. "What are they gonna to do? Leap off onto a horse like in a western?"  
  
"They might be in the end carriage," Fraser said.  
  
"Why?" Ray couldn't see it himself.  
  
Bob Fraser continued pestering his son. "I only want to know what happened, Benton. God, you're worse than your mother. Boy could that woman keep a secret. Fine if you want it that way."  
  
Fraser was glad his father had shut up and continued to explain how he thought the terrorists would escape. "In order to get off the rain they will need the train to stop. Since they have no intention of allowing the train itself to stop they must unhook a carriage allowing it to stop on its own and thus allowing them to disembark safely."  
  
Ray sprang into action. The sooner they saved the train and captured the bad guys the sooner he and Fraser could get back to what they were doing, kissing. "So what are waiting here for? Let's go."  
  
Ray was first down the carriage, followed by Fraser, and then Buck, Bob Fraser having vanished as his son hadn't answered him, with Dief bringing up the rear. Dief was a little reluctant and only hoped the new relationship between his pack mates would mean extra treats when they got back to Chicago. The wolf knew exactly what had transpired on the top of the train. He wasn't blind.  
  
As they reached the last carriage they saw the terrorists lean down and unhook it from their view from the windows of the carriage behind. As they got outside they were greeted by a waving Bolt.  
  
"Sorry gentleman but I can't stay for the party. I'm sure you don't mind but there isn't any room for you. I'm not surprised you escaped Detective, Constable. Such a shame it was for nothing. Enjoy the show gentleman. You'll have a starring role!" he called as the carriage went further away, to safety.  
  
"Dammit we're too late." Ray hit the bar on the carriage in frustration.  
  
"We have to stop the train," Fraser stated, trying to keep calm.  
  
Buck spoke up, "How do you propose to do that?"  
  
There was no answer Fraser could make. They retreated into the carriage to think things through. It so happened there was a phone in the carriage and it also so happened that it was ringing. Ray lunged forward and answered it, putting the speaker on.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Ray, is that you?" Huey asked on the other end. He couldn't be sure it would be Ray who would pick it up but Huey had hopes.  
  
Ray couldn't stop a slight smile as he answered; it was good to hear a familiar voice, "Jack? Yeah it's us."  
  
"Are you alright?"   
  
"Other than the fact we're on a train packed with explosives about to blow, sure," Ray replied slightly annoyed. Of course they wouldn't be alright! Still he was grateful for Huey at least asking.  
  
Huey ignored the comment and simply carried on. "Listen, Ray there's a runoff not too far from where you are. The switch needs throwing. The runoff should stop you ending up in Chicago and is the best place to try to stop the train. Now we can't get to the switch so you'll have to throw it yourself. I'm sorry but it's the best we can do."  
  
Fraser spoke up, glad for the information, "Thank you Detective Huey. How far it is from our current location?"  
  
"About six miles," came the reply as Huey checked the map.  
  
"Then we don't have much time," Fraser said.   
  
Time was indeed of the essence and he immediately left to go to the engine. Buck Frobisher and Diefenbaker were in hot pursuit. Ray took the time to sign off from the call.   
  
"Thanks Huey," Ray said. "We're gonna try it."  
  
As Ray was leaving he heard one last comment, "Ray?"  
  
"Yeah?" Ray was by the door but could still hear.  
  
"Good luck. Just phone back if you need a hand," Huey wished them the best luck in the world; they were going to need it.  
  
"Thanks," and Ray left to catch up with his colleagues.  
  
*********************************************************************   
  
Randall Bolt on the other hand had decided it was time to dispose of his colleagues. They had served their purpose, they had helped him get the train and set the explosives. They were now heading toward safety with their ill gotten gains. They had won.  
  
"We made it!" one of his thugs said, taking a good look at the money.  
  
"Yes we did," Bolt replied as he fiddled with his gun under his coat. "Such a shame you won't be coming with me."  
  
With that he pulled out his gun and shot the man, once in the chest. He fell down; he was dead as he hit the floor. Bolt then turned and shot the other thug who hadn't managed to get his gun out in time. Bolt just smiled as he turned to the woman next to him.  
  
"Hey why did you that?" the woman terrorist asked, shocked at Bolt's sudden tactics.   
  
"Well it turns out I'm kinda greedy," Bolt told her before another shot rang out.   
  
Of course that had been the plan all along; he had never intended to share the money. Killing his companions meant he now had all ten million dollars to himself. Things had worked out very well, better than he had thought. All he had to do was sit back and wait for the bang.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Of course the one thing Fraser and Ray didn't want was a bang. They were now back in the engine room trying to figure a plan of action. If the brake was applied and the train stopped moving the bomb would detonate. In addition to this problem they had to somehow change the points from a moving train.  
  
They had debated about the issue for the last few minutes until Buck Frobisher spoke up, "I'll deal with points," he said.  
  
"How?" asked Ray. He couldn't see Buck leaping from the train and what other way was there? He respected Buck but the guy wasn't exactly in his prime.  
  
Buck had spied a rifle in the corner. He went over and picked it up. Grasping it firmly he turned to Fraser and Ray, "I'll shoot it. One well-aimed shot should knock the points and allow us to get to the runoff."  
  
"You'll be able to shoot it?" Ray asked with some disbelief. He doubted he could make the shot, let alone Buck.  
  
"I may be old, son, but I was quite a sharpshooter in my day." Indeed Buck's uniform insignia plainly showed this. He was quite the sharpshooter, possibly better than Benton Fraser; he certainly had more experience.  
  
Fraser knew this and respected Frobisher's attempt. "Good luck, sir," he said.  
  
Buck simply nodded and went out to the front of the engine. He knew that he had to make that shot. He had said he could; now he had to deliver.  
  
"Good luck?!" Ray said after Buck had left. "You honestly think he can shoot that? If he misses it we're dead and half of Chicago goes with us."  
  
"I have complete faith in Sergeant Frobisher's abilities," Fraser stated.  
  
"You say that about everyone!" Ray countered.  
  
"Well....."  
  
"You do."  
  
"That might be true, Ray, but we have a more pressing matter. We have to defuse this bomb," and Fraser indicated the item in question.  
  
"Great." Ray was sarcastic but he knew Fraser was right. So Ray, despite his grousing, knelt down beside Fraser who was already examining the bomb.  
  
"We have a number of options, Ray," he said, turning to his friend. "Firstly we can attempt to fool the device into thinking the train is still moving however there is still a timer which means the bomb will go off anyway in approximately five minutes and fifty eight seconds. Ideally we need to defuse it but it appears to be connected to the other bombs onboard so we don't know if defusing will set the others off or defuse them. I would suspect the latter but there's no way of proving it."  
  
"It's not like we have a lot to lose here, Benny," Ray sighed. They had to do something soon or they would be dead anyway.  
  
"On the contrary, Ray considering what happened between us earlier I would hope we have quite a bit to lose," Fraser smiled indicating exactly how he felt.  
  
Ray had to smile himself. This was a new thing. Benton Fraser hesitating over risking the life of Ray Vecchio. Maybe it was because now he knew exactly what he had to lose? Or maybe because Fraser was as eager about exploring the new aspect to their relationship as Ray was.  
  
"Yeah," Ray agreed. "We do but we have to defuse the bomb."  
  
Fraser cleared his throat, "Right, well there are eight wires. I would suggest we disconnect them."  
  
"In order?" Ray had seen enough movies to know there was usually an order.  
  
"If there is one," Fraser agreed. "Now there are four green, three yellow and a red. I suggest we start with the green and then the yellow and then the red."  
  
"Why?" Ray would put his faith and trust in Fraser but he at least wanted to know the reasoning behind Fraser's plan.  
  
Fraser duly explained, "Well red and yellow are used to express danger whereas green is used to suggest safety."  
  
Ray stood up. "Fine but we need some wire cutters," he said, glancing around for anything they could use. "Do you have your knife with you?" he asked.  
  
"Ah, yes I believe I do." Fraser stood up and managed to retrieve his knife from his belt. Hunting utensils would have to do. He carefully knelt back down and began his task of cutting the first wire. Ray was right beside him, as always.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Buck Frobisher was also getting to work but he was less confident after his earlier bravado. Somehow he had to hit the points with a perfect shot, dead on target, in order to get the train onto the runoff. He was holding the rifle this way and that trying to work out the best angle.  
  
"Well get on with it," came the voice of Bob Fraser who had materialised beside his friend.  
  
"I'm trying," Buck said, impatiently. What did Bob think he was doing?  
  
"Take the shot, it's simple. Point and shoot," Bob Fraser waved his arm in the general direction.  
  
"It's not simple!" Buck said angrily. "I have to get this shot dead on target." "Shouldn't be a problem."  
  
Buck lowered the rifle for a moment and his voice became sombre, "Look at me Bob. I'm old. I can't get around without a stick, I have to put my glasses on to read reports and look for evidence. Twenty years ago I might have had a chance but now...."  
  
Bob Fraser had more faith, "You can do it Buck just, look, focus and let it go."  
  
"Alright."  
  
Buck was acutely aware they were running out of time. Soon the train would blow and they had to get onto the runoff to get it to stop. He raised the rifle and tried to look down the barrel. He held the rifle as best he could, squinted and obtained the target. Then he closed one eye and pulled the trigger, praying his shot would work.  
  
Remarkably he was met with the sound of the bullet hitting the points. They switched and the train headed down the runoff. Buck smiled with a sense of satisfaction.  
  
"Well done," smiled Bob Fraser. "Couldn't have done better myself."  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
In the cabin Fraser and Ray were close to disarming the bomb and it was going to be a close run thing as the seconds counted down. They were on the last wire, the red one. The others had been cut through without any difficulty. This was the moment where it could work, or go badly wrong.  
  
"Ready?" Fraser asked. He had his hands poised over the wire.  
  
Ray just nodded and shut his eyes; waiting for the bang should things go wrong. He didn't want to see what might go wrong. Fraser cut the wire and the timer on the bomb which had read ten seconds stopped, freezing that point. By Fraser's calculations all the other bombs should have been disarmed.  
  
"We should check the other explosives," he said to Ray. There was no harm in being safe but ten seconds, the time they were likely to go off had passed.  
  
Ray agreed. "Yeah."  
  
As he and Ray went throughout the train, much relived to discover all the explosives were disarmed Ray asked, "What about the Mounties?"  
  
"Oh they should be waking up any minute," Fraser replied. He hadn't forgotten his colleagues. He had calculated the time roughly, using body weight, age, cardiovascular condition and any minute was about right.  
  
Indeed in the passenger carriage the Mounties were slowly coming to, slightly worse for wear after their sleep. For a moment they wondered if they should be singing but soon settled for an explanation helpfully offered by Sergeant Frobisher who had made his way to the men for just such a purpose. He had helped save the train and now as the senior officer felt he should act in that capacity.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
"Okay what now?" Ray asked when all the train had been checked. All the explosives were disarmed and there wasn't any more danger of being blown up. They were alone in their carriage again. Ray was ready to continue what they had been doing earlier but he knew Fraser felt that they had one more thing to take care of.  
  
"We go after Bolt," Fraser replied. It was just what Ray had suspected and Fraser had a feeling Ray had known what he would say.  
  
"How? We don't know where he is."  
  
"I think we can work it out with Detective Huey's help," said Fraser confidently.  
  
So Fraser and Ray were soon back on the phone giving instructions to Huey and the stationmaster as to how to work the likely location of Bolt. "By my estimation, judging from the speed of the train, it would have taken approximately four point eight kilometres...." Fraser said.  
  
"Three miles," Ray clarified. It was better Huey knew what he was talking about so Ray translated it into English.  
  
"Correct." Fraser looked at Ray. Ray was much better at working out miles for kilometres than he had been. "This would be the distance needed in order for the carriage to have to come to a dead stop. Of course they may not wait until it is at a dead stop and disembark earlier. When they do they will some kind of transport, something that can go over rough ground."  
  
"Like a jeep," Ray suggested. He was actually quite enjoying this.  
  
"Exactly." Fraser agreed again. "Now they will need some sort of cover for this vehicle. Detective Huey is there any on the map?"  
  
Huey saw a glade of trees where the stationmaster had his finger on the map. It was the most likely place for several miles around. "Yeah we've got a glade of trees about 650 yards from the track about five or six miles from your current location," he said.  
  
"Good," Fraser said. "Where does the main highway intersect?"  
  
Taking another look at the map Huey soon had an answer, "Not far from where you are," he told him. "About two miles due west."  
  
"Thank you kindly, detective."  
  
"Yeah thanks Huey," and Ray ended the call.  
  
Fraser was immediately on the move again so Ray asked, "Where do you think you're goin'?"   
  
Fraser looked at Ray oddly. "To saddle a horse." "Saddle a horse? Why?" Ray asked. Saddling a horse? What next? This was turning out to be one weird day but since when had things been straightforward with Fraser?  
  
"It's the only way to catch Bolt, Ray. Here we are in a train, full of members of the RCMP. It seems to be the logical solution."  
  
Ray looked at his friend in disbelief. He was actually going to chase after Bolt on horseback. Then again nothing Fraser did really surprised him anymore, apart from that kiss. Ray tried to keep to the subject at hand. "Okay but I'm coming with you."  
  
Fraser was surprised by Ray on this occasion. "You hate horses, Ray," he stated.  
  
"No I just hate the smell." Ray wrinkled his nose slightly. "Besides I'm not being left on my own on a train packed full of explosives."  
  
"They won't go off."  
  
Why was that not reassuring to Ray? He didn't tell Fraser the real reason that he wanted to be close to him and not let him out of his sight. He might do so later of course. Later there would be a lot of things he wanted to tell Fraser.   
  
"Maybe," was his reply.  
  
Fraser also relished the idea of Ray riding with him and didn't take much persuasion. "Alright, Ray. Do you ride?" he asked.  
  
Ray looked at Fraser as if to say, what did you ask me a stupid question like that for, do I look like a Mountie? He sighed, "Benny, my dress uniform does not qualify me to ride a horse."  
  
"Then would you have any objection to sharing a mount with me?" Fraser suggested in the same tone he would ask for a date.  
  
Ray got what Fraser meant and smiled, "None at all, Benny."  
  
Buck Frobisher rallied the men and they nearly set a new record for mounting up. There were thirty of them in all, a sizable number. The men had managed to wake up and as Buck said there was nothing like a bracing ride for getting the men awake and alert. The horses and their riders rode out from the train, a magnificent sight. Ray was on the back of one horse and, though slightly nervous, was enjoying sharing Fraser's mount.  
  
Ten minutes later Ray wasn't so sure. It was nice being so close to Fraser, holding onto that waist, being inches away from kissing his neck, smelling that pure Mountie smell and enjoying the feel of red serge but the ride was still quite bumpy. Horses went up and down and up and down in an interesting motion. Ray couldn't quite get the hang of the balance so held on extra tight to Fraser. It didn't help that Fraser had insisted they ride quite hard and fast so they might catch Bolt.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
The FBI on the other hand were in no danger of catching Bolt. The response team were too slow for Ford and he felt direct action was needed. Following what they thought to be the train signal Ford had arranged for a military helicopter to blow up the `blip on the screen'. They did this only to discover they had blown up a pickup. It was only at this time they realised their mistake. Agent Ford had engaged in much shouting.  
  
"So where's the train people?! Come on, find it! We had it, where is it? Send the chopper to look for it." This was not going to go down well at all in Washington. Ford might just end up being sent to Alaska the way things were going.  
  
"Is there a problem, Agent Ford?" Lieutenant Welsh asked politely. He knew that this particular Agent was incompetent but he got some satisfaction from seeing Ford screw up.  
  
Agent Ford pointed his finger as he answered. He wouldn't be shown up. "No. We'll find them. Don't you worry."  
  
Elaine appeared at that moment with a look of triumph on her face. Now was the time to get her own back on Agent Ford. "Sir," she directed this at Lieutenant Welsh, ignoring Ford. "Detective Huey called. Vecchio and Fraser have stopped the train and disabled the bomb. They've managed to get it on a runoff from the main track. They and the rest of the RCMP musical ride are going after Bolt."  
  
"Thank you Elaine." Welsh said and smiled. His triumph was complete. "Seems you were wrong to ignore Vecchio and the Mountie after-all."  
  
It was all Agent Ford could do but splutter and turn to issue orders.  
  
No-one in the station had doubted that Vecchio and the Mountie would get the job done. It was what they did. They would get a hero's welcome when they returned, there was no doubt about that and Lieutenant Welsh was one of the first to admit it.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Right at that moment they were very close to finishing the job. Bolt was trying to get away but his jeep was old and the engine was close to giving out. He hadn't thought about his getaway vehicle enough. He'd settled for a cheap thing that could barely make thirty miles an hour.  
  
The Mounties had soon caught up with him as they came riding over the hill. Bolt turned to see them, trying to make his jeep go faster but it was a losing battle. The Mounties got closer. One of them, it happened to be Constable Fraser, rode past and jammed a lance in the engine. He was followed by another officer and then a third. With three lances in it the engine had no choice but to give out.  
  
It spluttered to a stop but Bolt felt he wasn't beaten yet. He got out of the jeep, dragging a few bags of money with him and tried to run away but it was no good. The Mounties were wise to his plan and surrounded him. Every which way he turned he was faced with horses and sharp lances. He dropped the bags and put his hands up. He realised he was beaten.  
  
"Why do they always look so happy?" he snarled. He had well and truly lost.  
  
Ray, behind Fraser on the horse, just smiled and enjoyed the view. The Mounties had got their man and Ray had certainly got his.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
The Mounties held Bolt until reinforcements came. Huey had phoned the local sheriff's station and got a lot of co-operation. They were only too happy to help. It was quite a sight they saw when they found Bolt surrounded by Mounties. Soon he was in American police custody; they had crossed the border after-all. He growled as he was put in the back of the police car. It just wasn't fair to be thwarted by Mounties.  
  
The FBI came late to the party. The only satisfaction was that they hadn't blown up any innocent people. They were left to look over the train and get some statements. Paperwork was the safest thing really. Ford would have to do a lot of damage control back in Washington.   
  
It appeared Superintendent Moffat would also have to have some damage control. However he was so popular he could do no wrong these days. While he might not get his promotion right away there was bound to be another chance. The RCMP brass were most intrigued by his Mickey Mouse ears idea.  
  
As the RCMP were riding back to the train Ray felt compelled to talk about what had happened. "Benny..." he began. "About what happened on top of the train....." But before he could finish Ray was cut off.  
  
"I know what you'll say, Ray. You'll say this whole incident was a mistake and it can never happen again unless the exact same circumstances repeat themselves," Fraser said. He had half been expecting this. Now the initial danger was over, Ray didn't want him.  
  
"What?!" Ray couldn't believe it. After all they had been through, after the way he had held Fraser on the horse, the way he was still holding onto him, Fraser still had doubts? "Fraser, if you think I'm gonna tell you it can never happen again unless we're stuck on a train of unconscious Mounties, heading toward a nuclear disaster, you've got another thing coming!"  
  
This surprised Fraser, he hadn't dared hope... "Ray?"  
  
Ray sighed and told Fraser the truth, "Benny, I said some things I really meant. I'm in love with you, hell I kissed you. I wasn't talking any near death garbage either. I really love you. I want to kiss you again. If you wanna forget it fine but it's not gonna change how I feel."  
  
Fraser smiled, his fears had just vanished. Strange Ray could do that with just these few words, but he had. "You don't have to, Ray, I meant it all too. I've been in love with for so long. I'm just not used to getting what I want."  
  
"Well you've got what you want. Do I get what I want?" Ray asked, flirting again.  
  
"What that's, Ray?" Fraser asked, hoping it was him.  
  
"You." Ray said simply  
  
Fraser's heart soared a little. "Oh you have me Ray," Fraser paused and then told the truth. "Forever if you want."  
  
"Well that's good," Ray agreed. He couldn't have Fraser any other way. "We're going to have to celebrate later you know," he added.  
  
"I look forward to it." Fraser let his mind wander. Oh how he was looking forward to it.  
  
Ray hugged his Mountie just a little bit tighter and Fraser smiled just a little bit more. They didn't hear the other conversation going on a little way behind them.  
  
"I guess he's not such a bad choice," Bob Fraser said, looking over with a critical eye the cop that had captured his son's heart.  
  
"He's a fine choice. He means a lot to Benton. I'm sure they'll be fine," answered Buck Frobisher and he meant it too. These two belonged together. What had happened on the train made more sense now.  
  
Bob Fraser wasn't convinced, "Still....."  
  
"Don't interfere," Frobisher told him. He knew how his friend's mind worked, dead or not.  
  
"I wasn't going to," Bob Fraser had that slightly offended tone to his voice. Though Buck had been right Bob wasn't going to admit that.  
  
"No?" Buck just looked at him.  
  
"No." After a slight pause Bob Fraser added, "But as the yank's new father-in-law..." He did see this lasting forever, whether he liked it or not.  
  
"Is that my horse Sprocket?" Buck asked looking at the horse apparition his friend, his dead friend, was sitting on, hoping to get Bob's attention elsewhere.  
  
"Yes. Don't change the subject."   
  
Buck feigned innocence, "I wasn't."  
  
"You were," came the response. "I wasn't."  
  
The arguing between the two old friends continued but Fraser and Ray were oblivious. They had their own things to think about.  
  
"Ya know something?" Ray said.  
  
"What's that, Ray?"  
  
"I'm glad I came on this trip." And Ray meant every word. What was playing poker with the boys compared to being kissed by a Mountie?  
  
Fraser smiled, "Me too Ray. Me too." And he was. This might not have happened otherwise.  
  
Then, so imperceptibly no-one would notice Ray leaned forward and kissed the back of Fraser's neck and whispered in his ear, "I love you."  
  
Fraser smiled more. "Me too, Ray," he replied.   
  
There was so much they would say to each other. Later they would explore this new aspect to their relationship they had discovered. Both were very glad they had made the trip. More so that they loved each other and had found this out. All they had were happy thoughts as they rode home with all the Queen's men.  
  


  
 

* * *

End All the Queen's Men by Angela 

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